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Monthly Archives: July 2010

I was lying on my bed listening to a family of three having a boisterous time on the lawn outside. I wondered why we couldn’t all live in a snapshot of one of those times when we are completely happy with no care in the world?
But the world is not like that. This is a shitty world. You are going to do some shit and have others do shit to you. You are going to sling mud at others and get shit in return. Some shit will inadvertently land on your doorstep.
To complicate matters, since this is by default a shitty world filled with people living shitty lives, some people have decided (within reason) that there are good shit (or great shit or bad shit as in “that’s some bad shit”) and just plain bad shit.
Everybody wants a piece of some great shit (no, good/great shit is not a synonym for “weed”).
No one wants to be shitted on, but lots of people don’t mind shitting on others.
The shit people do is limitless.
And when you hear “awesome” used to describe some shit, that right there is a reference to some really great shit.
No shit is not always good news, shit is going on all the time, you may not just know about it.
Being shit-unawares in not always good either. You may be coasting along enjoying good shit of your own making, until some shit-brain comes along, does a sneak-shit-attack and dumps some real bad shit on you thereby turning an otherwise acceptable afternoon into a shitty day.
Some people don’t know shit. Some have shit for brains and some are just plain shit. When it’s raining shit, don’t stop at an umbrella. Bring along the whole caboodle – overcoat, goggles, gas mask and knee length boots.
When shit is-a-flying all over the place, you can’t be sure where it’s going to land so being prepared is just good common sense.No one has cornered the market on shit. People have thought otherwise throughout the ages, but found out to their utter dismay that new shit gets invented all the time.
“This shit will kill you” has never deterred anyone. People are going to: do shit, smoke shit, drink shit, and eat shit whenever they want.
Everyone will be scared shit-less at some point in their lives. Not everyone will admit it and others have just buried it under piles of other shitty memories and can’t remember it.
This doesn’t mean it’s all good. All that buried psycho-shit makes for maladjusted individuals and drives a whole industry of psychologist making great money from digging up shit people have forgotten or would rather not remember.
People with skeletons in their cupboard are hiding some bad shit. Bad shit is of course relative. Shit can vary from “I poisoned my neighbor’s chihuahua” to “I robbed a bank and got away with a shitload of money” to “I am a closet this-or-that”.
There is so much shit going on, one just has to stop writing about it at some point (seeing it’s endless)
If there are aliens out there, they better stay away, if they conquer us, they get to export some of our shit to their own world; if we conquer them, we export the shit ourselves. At the end of the day, what you get is two shitty worlds. And knowing how quickly shit gets around, when coupled with advanced alien travel technology, we will soon be flinging shit into the distant reaches of the galaxy: welcome to year 3000, when the milky way has been rechristened the shitty-way galaxy. Aliens you have been warned: “stay away!” (unless of course you think your ability to sling shit is second to none)
So, here I will stop writing shit. Go have some fun, and if you come across some person that’s having a shitty day, be a dear and give him some of your good shit.
(21/07/2010 6:50pm)

From time to time, I ask myself what’s the point of it all.
You live, you die. You grow up, build a house and raise some kids. So what? You start an NGO and ease the burden of the less privileged. For how long? And where will they be tomorrow? Have more kids than they can care for? Most of them become less privileged because their less privileged parents decided to have 6 kids on a no-kid income.
It’s questionable if poverty should be called a “vicious cycle”. All it needs is for one person to keep his pecker in his trousers or a lady to keep her legs together. But we cant. We are “social” creatures and society demands we conform to all its norms even when it’s injurious to our well-being. That’s against the basic rights of the human being to self-determination and the pursuit of happiness. That was a load of croc – pure bullshit. We are just plain undisciplined. The blackman just dont cut it.
The Westerners ask themselves continuosly “are we there yet?”, the blackman forgets to even ask himself anything and when he does, it’s likely to be “are we dead yet?” – and if it’s not, it should be (for all the “good” we do in the world.) Another nail in Darwin’s coffin – natural selection (survival of the fittest) should have made Africa bereft of human beings but what do we have instead – a bunch of humans proliferating like ants – apologies to ants – there is more order in an ant hill than a typical African city.
F**k it all I say. Bring Armmageddon NOW! Bring it on! End the misery of many just “surviving” – for what – a better day? That’s what their parents and grandparents thought, but they are now bleached bones lying 6 feet under (if they are lucky).

Like all good Nigerians (in the know), an NGO is a good multple source of income. But that aside, it’s obvious with no stretch of the imagination, that there is too much “eating” going on in this country. Yes, some dont have enough to it while others are making up for them by eating 3,4,5 time their share in food.
And what have we got to show for all these over-eating and over-eaters? More frequent trips to the hospital (for those who can afford it), huge obscene bellies and thick cellulosic thighs and upper arms.
And what in all that’s holy is a “love handle”? Ok, maybe because I havent got any “love” in my life, that’s why I cant appreciate love handles. But frankly, ladies with love handles need not apply – unless you are of course Abacha’s daughter (think no more need for chasing after multiple streams of income!) in which case a justifiable exception may be made.
So I am starting an NGO (still searching for the right name) and our first campaign will be named “eat less, stay blessed”. Our goal is to redistribute the eating a little more equally. Like the French’s constitution states: “Liberté, égalité, fraternité” (for all people in all things).
All these talk of eating has made me hungry, so before I really get in the fray, excuse me for a minute while I grab a bite to eat.

All men (and women) are born with a bag of marbles slung over their shoulders. Don’t look in the mirror, it’s not visible.
This bag of marbles is both a curse and a blessing. It’s what makes on sane and also places on the same person the burden of conscience, love, hate, and so on.
As fate would have it, not all the marbles are of the same size and the size and content of each man’s bag is as random and many as the stars in the heavens.
There is an ongoing debate about what makes a perfect bag. As there are obviously no perfect men, one can conclude that there are no perfect bags.
It is easier to determine what is not a perfect bag than to find the perfect bag – no single person can do so in his life time and most people that claim to have the perfect bag are usually almost running empty.
It is certain that if you are artistically gifted to any noticeable extent, your bag is definitely short of some right-sized marbles – examples are the artistes and artists.
As usual, can we but not touch on that everlasting discuss on the relationship between good and evil.
There are men who are so short of marbles as to be jaundiced and there are men who are just plain evil.
Unfortunately, it’s sometimes difficult to tell the difference.
To complicate matters, there are men who are almost without marbles and at the same time just plain evil.
Some men who have lost all their marbles find themselves in position of power (Hitler) and so arrive at a position where they can almost get away with anything – they are labeled as geniuses by the beneficiaries and tyrants and despots by the victims. Yes, Hitler was also evil.
The men who have lost all their marbles and have no power are those wondering around in rags like the one just down your street trying to hump a power pole.

The more your marbles are either not of the right size and/or quantity, the more your deviation from that bag which we designate as perfect.

The prize goes of course to the person who first discovers a man with a perfect bag.